Kumodraška 7Xx, 11000 Beograd, Serbia, 2015.
I arrived in Belgrade from the lowest southern point of Serbia sometime in October of 2015; in a fit of helpless rage, I fled from constant indignity and pain inflicted daily on me by someone I stupidly considered my ally in this life, in order to prevent the last of the best of me from disappearing completely. I was now a parent, a role I feared for most of my life, painfully aware that I am completely unable to protect a child from this world to a degree I feel a parent should – and at the same time, instantly inamored with the child to a point of the rest of the world just fading into nothing. And already it was time to leave – to love my daughter meant to go away, so that her days can be rid of tension and bitterness that immature so-called adults smear their days with. It also meant for me to go on and shoulder a burden of absence from her life and excruciating pain of her absence from mine. I took a night train with refugees out of town and after a completely insane invisible tour through most of the towns I lived in over the years, I ended up in a small subterranean room in a place my mother used to rent in Belgrade – cold turkey off my meds for clinical depression, ill and sad beyond imaginable, with a keyboard controller, Mom’s ancient PC and my guitar. One night I used a dictaphone to dispel the dread and sadness performing a little ritual: I let something in me surf AM radio in the kitchen for a couple of minutes, handing over control of my hands to something I did not entirely recognize as a part of my self. I met a ghost. And so will You, if You care to listen. It is still woven into warped waveform of that session and scant instrumentation I provided over time, feeling the same dismay that prevented me from creating music as I used to.
This Imbolc, I will start the purge that should untie my hands once again. Tearpalm enters the second decade of its existence – and may it sound its presence with joy and violence according to its nature, until the very end.
That Guy from Tearpalm
Seeing ghosts, cca. February 2016.
‘Feathers need to change, but the wings will stay the same’
‘Triad’ artwork by Stefan Mrkonjić, 2016.
In Jacob’s Ladder, a chiropractor angel tells a dying man about Meister Eckhart’s teaching of the nature of Hell and our connection to it. Only part that suffers therein is the part of us that resists change – until burned away and changed all the same. Changes have a natural tendency to drive us towards divinity inside and outside ourselves, death being the final transformation we have to face. Our inability to accept this creates loss, which might be a defining feature of human condition. Loss is equally unavoidable as death and there is but one way around both – acceptance.
Nežit’s new offering is a track record, a grimoire if You will, of striving towards and finally achieving that acceptance. A tremendous personal loss and facing new realities of survival in a country currently transitioning from former Eastern Bloc bad to new Western colonial worse pushed the envelope set by his ODDOT-era material further towards – pop, of all things. Because compelling stuff never needed additional harshness. Minimal, crisp but at the same time raw and even garage-like overall sound, Nežit’s own completely lyrics-oriented and almost hip-hop styled vocal delivery, richly embellished with female vocals, occasional hammering pianos, sampled orchestral stabs and at times truly melancholic guitar-driven sections is what marks this set of shapely pop songs; no solos, no nonsense, just powerful verses and choruses that stick. Three-sided revelations 4 YouTube generation.
Get it here.
From upcoming release Triad.
Find the entire album 1/11/16 on our official Bandcamp page.
93DOT93 is back – in black!
It is often said that all fortunes come in threes; three is also, as we very well know from a certain old movie, optimal number of saboteur agents working together. Nikola Nežit proposes an universe of three-sided revelations on his 3rd overall release and his full-length debut. Triad brings lore of abrupt changes, tears of rage and battle cries, all cast into pop gems through die hard DIY approach to musicmaking for the twilight of Infomaniac Age.
Scheduled for release on November 1st, on 93DOT93 official Bandcamp page.
Stay tuned for more news!
‘Secret Life of Trees IV’ by Irena Kazazić
Now, with the end of December approaching fast, various Marys come to mind. Mother Mary, Mary Magdalene, Mary the Jewess, Mary won’t you call my name – but what if all of them were just ONE, universal woman? Mary, mother of Christ – what if she was merely a teacher, conveyer of wisdom, thus bringing out a saviour in us all? If Christ never existed, save as a pinnacle of humanity in all of us, reached via this wisdom, female wisdom?
True virgin birth, that would be.
Continuing 93.93s ØØØ Edition, a Winter Solstice treat of noise made by Women is here! From delicious, gloomy, rhythmic noise of Eärwen Dies, via okkvlt scented percussive industrial EBM of MetaKhaos and unrestrained non-computer noise of visdomstann, all the way to krautish vibes with Eastern bent delivered by Edipa_D, this first instalment in hopefully long lasting series to be is now at Your very finger tips – and it’s free!
Cover art is a detail of above displayed piece by Irena Kazazić, a cool artist You should check out when You get the time. Also featuring a PDF with scans of her recent ‘Secret Life of Trees’ series.
Merry Yule to all!
“Sleazy died last night… Tonight we’re playing for eternity.”
This would be a loose translation of a text message I’ve received from Dunduew, a little short of five years ago now. I was drunk on the street somewhere in downtown Belgrade, pulling myself together to go back home and have some sleep as the day breaks. I remember, though memory indeed b fvkt – I remember this, or this is how I want to remember it.
And I remember murky inside of Underworld club, shaken irregularly with passing trolley car and subway vibes (‘the void rumbles in, like the underground train’), and herein lies the reason I am starting this announcement with this memory – this excavated 40-minute tour de force of nightmarish and druggy, glitchy, qliphothic mirror of dance oriented, albeit strictly minimal electronica to me is the perfect soundtrack for an aftermath of every party night I’ve spent in clubs, ever.
And adjacent piece, my own reworking of a Dunduew original from the possible ‘Frape’ series, executed live with man himself on the night of our joined tribute to a great influencer and indeed a great man, Peter Christopherson, is to me a perfect companion to this soundtrack. To this day, it fills me with the same infernal feeling of slumber in empty party halls, and apartments which shelter tired and intoxicated bodies, as they crave rest.
93.93 invites You to taste, sample and perhaps grab Yourself a copy of it’s catalogue number 002, Frape Duplais, by Dunduew. You can do it all here.
Indeed, this year the birthday of The Great Beast 666 gives birth to …well, another beast. Much anticipated, at least by those who are familiar with sounds of this psychedelic combo, their follow up to 2012’s “Osvit” (Serbian for daybreak) brings a fresh twist from retro, prog-ish atmosphere of the debut, towards edgier psychedelia, okkvlt rock and ‘avant-garage’ (which they seem to have happilly adopted from early stars of independent quirk, Pere Ubu).
Enjoy number ØØ1 in 93DOT93 catalogue! Get it here.
Paid download gets You exclusive 17-minute bonus track, all official videos in phone-friendly 480p resolution (slightly remastered, let us not forget!), artwork and perhaps a satisfaction of being a supporter of one-of-a-kind label that 93DOT93 is in this part of the world.